


Doubling

by wonderluck



Series: In the Waking Hours [1]
Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, F/F, Misses Clause Challenge, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderluck/pseuds/wonderluck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul Spector's last victim awakens. Stella and Dani work tirelessly and grow closer at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doubling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellia/gifts).



Annie Brawley was conscious. 

It was promising for that first hour, a small crowd of police and secondary relatives buzzing with anxiety outside the door to her room. The nurses tried to keep a calm atmosphere inside as the doctor tested her responses. 

Nothing. Annie wasn't responding to verbal prompts. Her only movement was the occasional blinking of her eyes. 

That was when the dread set in. Dani turned to Stella with an unguarded look of intense worry. Stella's face betrayed nothing as she stood in quiet contemplation. So close, she was so close. All she needed was an independent description and she could plaster his face all over the papers. She resisted the urge to push her way into the room and hold the sketch of "Peter" over Annie's unfocused eyes with a question mark underneath. It wouldn't do any good anyway, not now. She had to do this right. With patience and a dose of luck, Annie would give Stella what she needed to catch the man that nearly killed her.

***

Stella could be found at the hospital more often than not. On that first night, she had split what little sleep she got between the waiting room chairs and the front seat of her rented car, and Dani had joined her after a quick trip to the station for their sleeping bags. They were up before the sun the next morning with matching dark circles under their eyes.

She'd given Dani a reprieve from sleeping at the hospital after that. Halfway through the second night Dani took her up on it. Every announcement over the hospital intercom snapped her out of a light doze, heart pounding from exhaustion as she looked toward the nurses' desk. Each time, a nurse shook their head, and Stella fell back into a restless sleep. It wasn't long after that that she too abandoned the nights in the waiting room for the cot behind the desk in her office.

She maintained a courteous distance from Annie's family. The doctors, on the other hand, were getting put through their paces. No, they didn't know when Annie's condition would improve. No, they couldn't give an estimate. 

Stella returned to the station on edge, her face a permanent mask of calm determination. She sipped another lukewarm coffee, which Dani wordlessly took from her and replaced with a fresh cup. They sat in Stella's office listening to audio of her call with the killer on a loop, Brink and McElroy filtering in and out with updates. The forensics team had been unsuccessful in identifying anything useful after analyzing the call's background noise. CCTV wouldn't be helping them this time.

"We know he's panicked," Stella said as she paused the audio. "He's trying to control the damage and regain order."

She had got under his skin. He wouldn't be able to leave it like that, a woman besting him.

"You think he's running, ma'am?"

"Even if he is, things went so wrong for him with Annie Brawley. He's too arrogant for this to be his final act."

Dani shifted in her chair. "Why didn't he leave when he learned the brother was there? Come back for her later?"

"His murder of Sarah Kay was nearly perfect. He'd taken such care with her and thought he'd finally got it right. When it turned out it wasn't, he couldn't contain himself."

Stella's gaze focused on the middle distance, fingers tapping rhythmically against the cup in her hand.

"This was yet another failure. He can't walk away now."

So there were more late night curries in the office with the other investigators, rehashing the facts and looking for new approaches: Could they release the child's drawing to the media? Could they put out a warning that the women fitting his victim type should reinforce their locks without causing mass panic?

As the days ticked by, she threw out a wider net. She placed another call to Reed's friend Ruth Stagg, gently pressing her to remember just one more detail she could use. She sent two officers to the universities that "Peter" possibly attended and was having the officers show the E-FIT sketch to Literature professors. It would likely turn up nothing.

Whether the killer was on the run or fading back into the shadows right under her nose, time was running thin. She could almost sense him growing restless, as if the essence of his violent thoughts permeated the city. He'd start again, not quite like clockwork this time. He'd try to tell himself that he could bury the compulsion, that he was strong.

They never were.

***

ACC Burns had been furious over how she'd handled the call with the killer, accusing her of having thrown away their chance to pinpoint his location. He had threatened to take her off the inquiry. Stella had pushed back, telling him that they absolutely would have lost him if she'd refused to take the call privately. And then where would they be? They'd never have known why he called in the first place.

She was tired of the attempts to burn her at the stake for her decisions. She knew she played in the boys' club, knew that she would be on the receiving end of the lion's share of distrust and contempt in her line of work. All she could do was continue to demand respect with carefully chosen words and an assertive air about her that was second to none. 

She maintained order in her life by putting men into tidy boxes: she was taking orders from them, giving orders to them, fucking them, or hunting them. Instead of closing herself off completely from the world, she gave women more leeway in her life. With Dani she could trade stories, with Reed she could share quiet moments of honesty. They got to see the more vulnerable side of her, if only a glimpse. 

***

Her usual perch on the roof of the station was unavailable by the time she found a moment to break away from her desk. Just as she'd hung up with Reed — Reed, ever patient, explained for the second time the likely paths Annie's recovery could take — hail had begun pouring from the sky. She stood at the window watching the dots of ice skitter along the ground as the storm intensified. 

Dani entered her office. It could only be Dani since no one but her skipped the customary knock on the glass. The amount of times she would have needed to knock throughout the day would've left her knuckles red, so Stella told her to abstain. 

"What do you have?" she said, turning from the window.

"More backgrounds on witnesses," Dani said as she passed her a stack of papers. She glanced at Stella's hand, touching a fingertip to the nail of Stella's little finger. 

Stella quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Still have a bit of varnish there," Dani said.

Stella turned her hand over and found the thin red line of varnish on the outer edge of her fingernail. Curious, she met Dani's gaze again as she reached into her desk drawer for the varnish remover. Dani gave a tight smile and turned to make a fresh batch of coffee.

***

Her morning swims helped her gain clarity after only a handful of hours rest. She took comfort in ritual: the pull at the roots of her hair as she tucked stray hairs under the swimming cap, the suction of the goggles sealing tight around her eyes. She stepped up to the edge of the pool, shook out her hands, and dove in. She preferred this method to wading into the water and easing her body into the temperature change; that felt like procrastination. She liked the sudden shock, moving from one element to another in a split second. 

_One must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star._

Water soaked through her swimsuit to her skin, the familiar feeling of cool and warm existing simultaneously. 

_I know your name is Peter, or at least you called yourself Peter at one time. I know that you studied Literature._

Her head turned to the side on every second stroke, a moist breath, the faint taste of chlorine. She rapidly approached the wall of the pool, judged the distance, and somersaulted forward, feet connecting solidly to spring her off the wall.

He had paused, a telling silence. _Wrong._

Back and forth she lapped the pool until the satisfying burn set in in her calves and shoulders. She always swam the front crawl; it was highly efficient. She touched the wall as she finished and found her feet beneath her, tiles cold against the pads of her toes. She walked against the resistance of the water, wading until she reached the stairs and ascended. She shook off the wild theories and false starts, leaving them to the pool. 

It wouldn't be long before the need overtook him like a fire burning through a forest. She'd be waiting.

***

It took a number more lingering gazes from Dani to see what was on offer. Stress, boredom, or lack of a social group, Stella didn't know why Dani wanted anything to do with her, knowing how her last one night stand had ended. But Dani's reasons were none of her business. She had proven herself to be discreet and sensible, and Stella mulled the possibility over in her mind on trips to and from the station.

After another day of waiting and sifting through piles of documents, Dani had said goodnight and headed to her own cot in the conference room. Stella found that she didn't want to spend another uncomfortable night in a cold office. She knocked on the conference room door. Dani opened it, already barefoot.

"I'm going back to my hotel," she said.

Dani rubbed at one eye and nodded.

"You're welcome to join me."

"Ma'am?" The word seemed to leave Dani's mouth out of habit.

"Or not," Stella added casually, watching the faintest blush appear on Dani's cheeks as she processed the information. "Either way, I'm leaving in two minutes."

***

Stella watched appreciatively as Dani got out of bed and searched for her clothes. Just as Stella had expected, Dani needed no instruction on how to end the night.

Dani pulled on her bra with a shy smile. It suddenly struck Stella that it might not be so bad if she woke in the morning to find a head of red hair fanned out over her crisp pillowcases, a freckled shoulder peeking out from under the duvet. 

Maybe someone could stay and warm her bed just this once. 

Dani was nearly dressed and set to pulling on her boots, tying them with quick tugs of the laces.

"It's been a long day," Stella said finally.

"I know. I'll be leaving shortly," Dani said.

Stella reached out and closed her fingers around Dani's arm, just below the elbow. She waited patiently as Dani's spine straightened, head turning.

Stella released her arm. "Do you have a cat to feed at home?"

Dani's brow furrowed. "No."

Stella flipped the duvet back on the opposite side of her. "Just know that I don't sleep through the night."

That earned her an "Oh" and another smile before Dani kicked off her boots once more.

***

At first light, Stella's mobile rang loudly from her bedside table. She reached for it on autopilot, pressing "talk" before she'd even opened her eyes.

"Gibson."

It was Brink. The officer Stella had posted outside Annie's room had radioed in. While a nurse was taking her vital signs, Annie had grabbed the sleeve of her uniform and started crying.

Stella hung up the phone and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She turned back to see Dani pulling on her clothes, both eyebrows high on her forehead.

"Good news?" she guessed, and Stella nodded.

Progress, finally.

***

It took another full day, a few high doses of sedatives, and round the clock tests before the doctors let Stella bring a sketch technician into Annie's room. It was slow-going as Annie still couldn't speak, but the computer tablet the technician used allowed her to point to the correct shape of her attacker's hairline, nose, eyes. She had patted her hand along her cheeks and chin to indicate facial hair.

Stella held the drawing of "Peter" next to the finished sketch. Dani smiled widely at her, already reaching for her mobile to ring the station.

The sketch was released to the press, and the calls once again flooded in. It was a call from an elderly woman with the sounds of her grandchildren playing in the background that led them to Scotland and to a man called Paul Spector.


End file.
